


Curves and Edges

by flowerfan



Category: Glee
Genre: Birds, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1749989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan/pseuds/flowerfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt gets off early from work to spend some much needed time with Blaine, but gets off track with a spur of the moment decision.  Plus birds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curves and Edges

Kurt toed off his shoes gratefully as he came into the loft, sighing as he slid the heavy door closed behind him. It had been a long, hot, day, and he knew that Blaine had been having an even longer week. Right now Kurt wanted nothing more than to unwind in the privacy of their home and spend some alone time with Blaine. Despite the fact that it was only the two of them in the loft these days, they still didn’t have much down time to just relax. Kurt had taken advantage of a slow night at the diner to beg off early from work, and was looking forward to surprising Blaine, who didn’t expect him for a few more hours. Given how sweaty he was, Kurt thought maybe they should start off with a cool shower, then warm each other back up in their favorite way, and then maybe, as a finale, feed each other the lemon sorbet he had picked up on the way home. 

When Kurt came into the living room, he could hear music from the fire escape. Blaine was perched out there with a handful of bread crusts, crooning some mournful tune and feeding the birds. It sounded lovely, if a bit melancholy, not at all like the song he thought Blaine had been working on for class. Then again, his summer workshop professor hadn’t been particularly impressed with the last song he performed, so maybe he was trying something different.

One of the pigeons was looking at Blaine with the most adorable expression, and when Blaine stopped singing, Kurt couldn’t resist. He positioned himself close to the window, and, in his most bird-like voice, chirped out “Bravo, bravo!”

Much to his surprise, Blaine didn’t turn around to see Kurt behind him, but just stared wide-eyed at the bird. “What did you say?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the bird.

Kurt grinned, pleased to find that his ventriloquist friend at the diner had taught him well. “Bravo, bravo. Lovely piece. Lovely piece,” he said in his bird voice again.

“Well, thank you,” Blaine said, looking over the edge of the balcony to see if anyone else was there. “I didn’t know pigeons could talk,” he muttered. “This is weird.”

“Pigeons can talk, pigeons can talk,” Kurt said, trying to imagine what a pigeon would sound like if it took lessons from a parrot. Kurt couldn’t believe the pigeon was still sitting there, looking at Blaine and tilting its head in that endearing bird way. 

“Well, would you like to hear another song?” Blaine asked, and when the birds flapped a bit as he settled his guitar on his lap, he apparently took that for a yes. Blaine started singing “Blackbird,” and for a minute Kurt thought he had been found out, but from the sound of it, Blaine still didn’t realize that Kurt was home. Blaine was singing softly, almost entirely to himself, even as he occasionally glanced up to see if the birds were still there. He sounded exhausted, and Kurt’s heart went out to him.

When he finished, Kurt waited for one of the pigeons to turn towards Blaine, and did it again. “Pretty boy, pretty boy,” he chirped.

“Thanks,” Blaine said quietly. “But my professor says that’s the problem. He says my voice is too pretty.”

What a jerk that guy is, Kurt thought. Anyone that didn’t appreciate Blaine’s voice was clearly deranged. But as he stepped closer to the window, readying another phrase of praise from the pigeon, he bumped into a side table and a pile of books slid off with a thump.

Blaine started at the sound and turned around. “Kurt?” Blaine called. “You’ve got to see this,” he said excitedly, climbing back into the room, eager to share his experience with the only talking pigeons in New York. “I should have recorded it, but my phone was inside, maybe if you come out real quick…”

Kurt couldn’t hold it in any more and he burst out laughing, clutching his arms around his waist as he gasped for air. “Oh my god, Blaine, I can’t believe you bought that,” Kurt panted, collapsing onto the couch. “Pigeons don’t talk!”

Blaine’s face turned bright red, and as the joyful expression disappeared off his face, Kurt knew he had screwed up. “It was you,” Blaine said flatly. “Not the birds.”

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed, trying to compose himself. “It was a joke. Blaine, wait –“

Kurt stared after Blaine as he pushed past him into their bedroom. He hadn’t realized it was possible to go from laughing hard enough to bust the seams on his pants to feeling like he had just drowned Blaine’s kitten, but he had managed to do it. Shit. Kurt took a deep breath, the aftereffects of his laughing fit still twitching through his abdomen. How could he have misjudged the situation so badly?

Despite having their ups and downs communication-wise, they had been doing pretty well lately, focusing hard on paying attention to what each of them needed. Kurt _had_ realized that Blaine was feeling down, and had wanted to make him feel better – that’s why he came home early from work. Apparently, however, he had botched the landing.

Realizing that it wouldn’t do any good to go after Blaine while he was still halfway in hysterics, Kurt went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. When he felt sufficiently calmed down, he slipped through the curtain into their bedroom, stripped down to his briefs, and climbed quietly into bed.

Blaine was curled up in a tight ball, facing away from him, the sheet pulled up around his waist. Even in super sad mode, the weather was just too hot for a full-on blanket burrito. Kurt was thankful for this, because he could see the wide expanse of Blaine’s lovely shoulders, and he could tell from how tense said shoulders were that Blaine was still awake. Awake, and upset. Of course he’s upset, Kurt thought. You humiliated him.

“Hey,” he said, scooting closer to Blaine on the bed, but not touching him yet. “Blaine, I’m sorry.” Blaine didn’t respond, but Kurt thought he saw him tremble. “Blaine, sweetie? I know you’re awake.” He carefully reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Blaine tensed, but didn’t shrug him off, for which he was grateful. “I’m really, really, sorry. But, curves _and_ edges, remember? You’re the one who said it. Tonight I guess you got my edges. My perfect imperfections.”

Blaine still didn’t say anything, but this didn’t deter him. Blaine was awfully good at heartfelt expressions of emotion, and he deserved to hear it back once in a while.

“I love all of you too, you know. Even the part that can believe in talking pigeons.” Kurt thought for a minute of Brittany, and wondered where she was now, with her strange child-like moments. “Maybe especially that part.” He ran his hand down Blaine’s arm, feeling his muscles tense as he smoothed over them. He found his hand, and twined his fingers together with Blaine’s. “You’re my end and my beginning, too. Always.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Blaine’s neck, letting his lips linger on his soft skin. “If it makes it any better, I bought some of your favorite lemon sorbet from that place on the corner. I can go get it now, and we can eat it right here in bed if you want.”

Blaine shook his head. “I’m not hungry,” he mumbled. Well, at least he was talking to him. It always got easier once Blaine started talking. Blaine really couldn’t ever stay mad at Kurt for very long, and Kurt thought he was more embarrassed than angry, anyway.

“I’m so sorry you had a bad day,” Kurt said softly. “And I’m really sorry I didn’t make it better. I wanted to, I just miscalculated.” Kurt stroked a stray curl out of Blaine’s face, and slid closer until he was pressed up against Blaine’s back. He held still, relieved when Blaine relaxed up against him, one of his feet poking backwards until it wrapped around Kurt’s calf. 

“I’m an idiot,” Blaine mumbled.

“You’re not an idiot,” Kurt soothed, dropping a kiss onto Blaine’s head. “I’m just apparently really good at throwing my voice.”

Blaine turned his head to look over his shoulder at Kurt. “You couldn’t have told me? I was starting to worry that it was the thing with the puppets all over again.” 

Kurt hated to see Blaine looking so dejected, his lovely eyes all watery. “I didn’t plan it or anything. The birds were just looking at you so admiringly, and you were singing so beautifully, it just happened.” 

“Promise you’ll never tell anyone?”

“I promise.”

“Not even when Santana tries to blackmail you?”

“Blaine, do you think I have no sense of honor? I would never let Santana use you as blackmail material.”

“You just don’t want her knowing about the time you wore her panties.”

“Blaine! What was our agreement about that?” Kurt blushed at the memory – he hadn’t realized he was wearing Santana’s neon pink underwear until he went to change for combat class in the locker room at school. “It was pitch black that morning when I got dressed – trying not to wake you up, if you recall – and she had thrown then in the laundry with mine. They were boy style, or something, anyway. It’s not as if they were lace.”

Blaine snickered. “Maybe I’ll have to mix some lace ones in next time and see what happens.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Kurt teased, wondering for a minute if Blaine was serious. He’d have to tuck that thought away for another time, though. He still had some things he needed to say, to put tonight’s mishap behind them.

“You know, the pigeon spoke the truth tonight.” Kurt squeezed Blaine tighter, tucking his chin over his shoulder. “I may have gone about it wrong, but the sentiments were true. You sounded amazing – both on Blackbird and the original piece you were singing before that.”

“At least someone thinks so,” Blaine said sadly.

“I do, and I’m right. You can’t listen to that guy. I don’t understand why NYADA puts up with him,” Kurt complained. “How does a homophobe make it in the world of musical theater, anyway?”

“NYADA likes him because he’s a big name, Kurt. He’s helped a lot of people get their breaks.” Blaine sighed. “He hates me, though. I’ve tried three different songs, completely different styles, and he just looks at me like I’m worthless. Today he said my writing was ‘infantile’ and my voice was ‘too pretty.’”

“Well, he’s right about one thing. Your voice is pretty. Just the right kind of pretty,” Kurt said, pressing a kiss behind Blaine’s ear. “And your face is pretty, too. The prettiest.” Kurt kissed along Blaine’s jaw, and he started to squirm backwards in response. Kurt let his hand roam down Blaine’s side, as he searched for that spot on Blaine’s neck that always made him moan. “You smell pretty, too,” he murmured, and Blaine finally gave up and turned around in his arms, diving in for a proper kiss. “Mmm,” Kurt said appreciatively. “And your mouth is pretty, and” Kurt inhaled as Blaine dipped down to kiss his neck, licking and nibbling his way around to his jaw, “oh, yeah, that’s um, that’s pretty too.”

Blaine giggled, pulling back to look at Kurt. “Lose your train of thought?”

Kurt beamed back him, his heart racing. “Nope. Clear as day.” A few minutes later, fairly certain that Blaine wouldn’t interrupt the process given the location of Kurt’s mouth in close proximity to a certain part of Blaine’s body that was aching for attention, Kurt looked up at his now much happier fiancé. When he caught Blaine’s eye, he tilted his head endearingly, and waited a beat for the right moment. “Pretty boy, pretty boy,” he chirped, and then swooped down on Blaine with a smirk. Kurt was sure that neither of them would ever look at a parrot in the same way again.

Later, once they had moved into the dessert portion of the evening, they lay in bed with the container of lemon sorbet between them, lazily spooning it out to each other and licking up the inevitable drips. If it happened to drip on Blaine’s lovely chest a little more than one would expect, Blaine certainly didn’t seem to mind, as Kurt obediently dragged his tongue over every sticky-sweet spot. Finally Kurt took the increasingly messy container away and set it down on the floor, coming back to wrap himself around Blaine’s chest. “Hey, I wasn’t done with that,” Blaine protested weakly, wiggling as Kurt squirmed around, trying to get comfortable.

“Mmm, yes you are,” Kurt said, pushing at Blaine’s shoulder until he rolled over, and then spooning up against him. “That’s better.”

“Are you sure? Because you don’t seem convinced.”

“Just making sure to say goodnight to all your curves and your edges,” Kurt said, stroking appreciatively over Blaine’s ass, and then settling his hand on the jut of his hip bone. “Cause you know,” Kurt paused, catching Blaine’s eye and smiling at the happiness reflected back at him, “I love all of you.”


End file.
